“You see, I'm willing to make any arrangement, Cousin Jule. It's about all there is that I'm fond of now, that old place. I haven't any folks of my own, and not a chick nor child, and I love every stick and stone of that farm. I love the country, and I love Connecticut country best of all, I don't care if it is rocky. You can't make farming pay in New England any more. But I don't need to make it pay; I'm willing to pay for the pleasure of it. And I want to do something for the town, too. I want 'em to be glad I came to settle there. Who's got the keys?” “I have, right here,” she answered. “The furniture is all ours, you see; they haven't brought much, only they've changed things all around. I haven't renewed the lease yet for this year.” “Well, now, look here, Jule,” Mr. Bean cried eagerly, dropping the end of his cigar into a bonbon-dish on the little side-table, “why don't you run right up there with me to-night, and we'll look it all over and sort of plan it out? We can go up on the six-thirty, and get there by half-past ten, and stop at the hotel, and be there all ready to look it over to-morrow. Now, how's that?” “Why, but, Cousin Lorando--I--there isn't time--I hadn't planned--” “Lord, neither had I, but what's the difference? If you want a thing done, go and do it yourself. Wouldn't you like to go? It's lovely up there; the spring's coming on fast, you know. I got lots of pussy-willow, and some little fellows told me there were May-flowers somewhere. You'll see more grass in a minute there than you can hunt up here in a week. Come on, Cousin Jule!” “I believe I will!” said Miss True-man, with conviction. “Just pack up a bag for your aunt, Carrie, while I get a cab,” said Mr. Bean from the doorway. “We're going up to the old place--I'm thinking of buying it. I expect we'll be back tomorrow.” “Your cousin appears to be a person of decision,” Mrs. Ranger suggested to the still dazed Elise, as the cab rolled away. “I don't understand Aunt Ju-ju at all,” Carolyn interpolated crossly. She had not been in the habit of packing her aunt's bag. “She usually makes such a fuss about starting to go anywhere--days ahead, in fact. And now at fifteen minutes' notice! And her best gown!” “It makes a difference, having a man to run it,” said the novelist sagely.